Rise of The Runelords Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

The Companions stand upon the doorstep of the hidden realm of Xin-Shalast. Many foul creatures, ancient evils, and terrible monsters had stood in their way, but soon they would face Karzoug on the steps of his own realm. As they turned to watch Shepherd lead his charges back home toward the south, they could hear the yawning void within the cave. They knew not what lurked beyond, but according to Mirelinda's harrowing it could be nothing good.

 

So they went, prepared for anything... except, perhaps, what they found. For those who need to catch up regarding this adventure, previous installments are below!

- Chapter 1: Blood and Butterflies
- Chapter 2: Murder and Glass
- Chapter 3: The Sin Pit
- Chapter 4: Tussles in The Tangle
- Chapter 5: The Assault on Thistletop
- Chapter 6: Secrets Behind The Curtain
- Chapter 7: Murders At The Mill
- Chapter 8: Halflings and Ghouls
- Chapter 9: Fox in The Hen House
- Chapter 10: Something Rotten in Magnimar
- Chapter 11: The Crumbling Tower
- Chapter 12: Demonbane
- Chapter 13: Trouble at Turtleback Ferry
- Chapter 14: The Taking of Fort Rannick
- Chapter 15: Water Over The Dam
- Chapter 16: Mad Lovers, And Lost Captains
- Chapter 17: The March of The Giants
- Chapter 18: The Taking of Jorgenfist
- Chapter 19: The Secrets Beneath Sandpoint
- Chapter 20: At The Gates of The Runeforge
- Chapter 21: Storming The Halls of Evocation
- Chapter 22: The Bowels of Necromancy's Tomb

- Chapter 23: The End of Runeforge

- Chapter 24: Preparation For The Final Journey 

- Chapter 25: The Hunger in The Mountains 

- Chapter 26: The Gateway to Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 27: The Path of Temptation

- Chapter 28: The Three-Fold Challenge of Xin-Shalast

- Chapter 29: Crossing The Barrier of Greed

- Chapter 30: The Fall of Karzoug

So what lies ahead? Only the darkest secrets of the soul...

Through The Nexus

 

As the Companions entered the cave, the wind gave way to something else. The stone around them began to crack, and through the cracks they could see far-away lights. The smells of the material plane fell away behind them, and there was only the empty scent of a vast gulf. Light came from everywhere and nowhere, but it did nothing to illuminate the cavernous blackness as the walls fell away. Their paths floated untethered in a void... a void that seemed to respond to them strangely.

Where the hell are we, exactly?

As the Companions advanced, weapons and spells at the ready, they began to hear things... strange things. Voices of those long dead. Whispers from the void speaking of what might have happened in other places, and other times. Zhakar was in the midst of attempting to reassure his friends when he heard a familiar voice for the first time since he'd been a child; his mother's voice.

He stopped cold, the steel of his manica shrieking as spikes ran down the metal like gooseflesh. As he turned his face, a path of stones manifested, and built into a doorway. Darkling light shone through, along with screams of anguished pleasure. Shadows danced beyond, and he stepped forward, knowing as he did that he did not wish to see what lay beyond that gate.

My son... how you've grown...

As Mirelinda shouted for Zhakar to turn back, and Thokk yelled for his friend, Zhakar stared through a gateway and into a scene from hell. His mother stood there, facing the gateway. Her skin shone like burnished silver, and her hair like spun gold. She wore a simple dress of white, but it seemed wrong somehow... the white of a wraith rather than that of an angel. That was when Zhakar realized she was not alone.

Looming over her, his perfect face filled with indolent desire, was a creature Zhakar had only heard of spoken in whispers. He bore his bat wing and red scales with pride, his tunic cut to show rather than hide his corruption. The clawed hand that rested on his mother's shoulder was possessive, the claws digging into her skin. When the archfiend Belial spoke, it was the sound of a beautiful serpent, singing to distract you as it dripped poison into your ear.

"My son," the creature said, genuine pleasure in its voice. "You have made me proud."

 

Zhakar stood in horror, rooted to the stones, his control over his form slipping. His wings flared, the fire filling his eyes sparking from a coal to a blaze. Rather than seeming afraid, the Lord of Lust simply smiled wider... a parent watching its child run instead of walk for the first time.

"Come," the fiend intoned, holding out its other hand. It held Zhakar's mother tighter, wringing a gasp of pain from her. "Join us. This is where you belong, blood of my blood, and flesh of my flesh."

 

Shaking, torn between fear, rage, pain, and fury, Zhakar reached for the runeforged weapon at his side. A weapon that would be the bane of a shapeshifter, as he well knew his father to be. He gripped it until his knuckles cracked, and he stared through the portal. He held his mother's eyes. Eyes that held their own fear, and their own pain... but eyes that had once faced down the horrors of the Worldwound and kept their sanity. Eyes that had seen a thousand battles, and who understood. Zhakar gazed upon the too-perfect face of his father, and spoke with a formality none had heard from him before. The voice of a squire taking his oath.

"When my task is complete, and my deeds here done, I will come for her. I swear it upon this steel," Zhakar said. "And were I you, I would hope that day does not come."

 

His fiendish father merely grinned, and spoke the words that would echo in Zhakar's mind from that day forward. "Do as you wish."

An Oath Made, and a Duty To Be Fulfilled

The portal collapsed as Zhakar turned his back upon it. His shoulders sagging, his face open and naked. The fear was gone from his face, the hatred drained away... the man who stumbled toward his friends seemed more like the scared child that he had been when he had lost his mother the first time, and was cast out by the zealots and witch hunters that fancied themselves crusaders. Thok embraced his friend, holding him as if he meant to keep his soul from fleeing his body.

Zhakar gathered strength from that moment, standing tall once again. He was himself, but more than that... he seemed more like the man who had stood with them at Sandpoint when the goblins attacked. Like an old sword that had been sharpened and honed, it was as if the edge had returned to him... the fire in his heart that had nearly guttered growing once more.

"Let us see this done, my friends," he said, turning once again to the bright light springing into being on the other side of eternity. "It seems I have other business to attend, and do not wish to keep it waiting long."

Next Time on Table Talk!

The adventure draws toward a head! Karzoug has nowhere left to hide, and he has chosen the home territory of his mountain fortress... but will it be enough to save him from the Companions' vengeance? Stay tuned, and I'll see you next time on Table Talk!

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